Welcome to North-ish. BYOS—bring your own snacks.

Origin Story

I called this space North-ish because, well… I’m terrible with directions. Truly, embarrassingly bad. My friends poke fun at me because I get lost circling parking lots. They’re astonished that something seemingly so simple is so hard. But for me, it’s a layered difficulty: part vision, part overwhelm, and part forgetfulness. Before I go into any building, I make a mental note of the row I parked in before I walk away. Sometimes it’s bad enough to where I take a picture with my phone. I’m sure it’s related to my ADHD and autism. But what I’m really trying to say is, sometimes I both literally and figuratively don’t know where I’m going. All I know is that I will get us there, and we will laugh (or cry) along the way. So we’re going, North-ish?

Pit stops include:

  • Notes from a nurse brain with too many tabs open.

  • Nostalgia that tastes like Hubba Bubba.

  • Gender and body rants from inside a complicated meat-suit.

  • History lessons no one asked for.

  • And maybe, a meme-level masterpiece.

Buy me a boba tea 🧋

They say misery loves company. I’m not miserable, but I’d still love more company.

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Just a queer auDHDer writing through quirks, care, and lived experience; I'm terrible with directions but at least I'm entertaining. Headed North-ish?

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Fueled by hindsight and humor.